


Top-Off

by Hgrade



Series: Degeneration Drabbles [2]
Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Drunk Sex, M/M, PWP, Past Slavery, Sticky, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-06 14:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6757252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hgrade/pseuds/Hgrade
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Swindle and Megatron converse over a cup of oil. PWP.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Top-Off

**Author's Note:**

> It's my second try writing Swindle! Maybe the first story will end up on here soon.  
> Dubcon warning for Swindle's drinking.

Swindle rarely finds himself in such pleasant company. A dark little part of the merchant wants to see Megatron drop a little bit more of that liquid down his chin. The leader of the Decepticons dabs at his mouth with a finger, wiping the excess before licking it off of his finger. 

Megatron can see the enraptured 'con, not the focus of his view but he can feel the optics on him. "Hmm." his eyes flick to the bottle. "It's familiar, but I've never been good at guessing labels." 

Swindle smiles, eyes locking onto his own cup. "It doesn't really matter, so long as you like it. Or do you want something stronger? I've got 1000% proof in the back." he laughs over the rim, muffling his words.

"Did you over-indulge yourself before our meeting?"

"Just a little, Megatron." Megatron finds it funny. Swindle does as well, in that warm buzzing way the excess makes itself known. "I had to make sure we're getting top quality stuff." they're expecting over a million gallons of it to come in, so it better be good. The bot's gaze drifts to Megatron's crotch again, what where they going to do with all of it. He knows that they've got space over in Strika's territory but transport will be an issue without getting outside parties involved. 

The gray mech considers dragging the smaller one closer to him already, they've been discussing oil shipments for what feels like a million vorns. He's never seen Swindle inebriated though, it has the 'con wondering if it'll make that tongue all the more slippery when it comes to delicate matters. He crosses his legs slowly and observes Swindle watch them close, it's amusing. Perhaps he too should indulge in a different flavor, "Are there any others you need me to sample?"

"Just two." he takes a deep swig from the metal cup before setting it down. "Let's see here." 

The edge of his cup makes for a perfect framing device, he can see Swindle's aft perfectly over the edge of it as he looks around the containers. Swindle can't feel it, but his body certainly does. Bending over makes the excess drain down some lines it shouldn't, fucking with the pressure in his lines and worsening the overcharge. The 'con makes a soft noise when he locates the correct one, flipping the lid up and then pulling out a ladle. Face distorting in confusion, he looks around for his cup. "Missing something?" Megatron can't keep the amusement from his voice.

"Hey, don't worry your servos sir." he picks up the cup and ladles in the sample. Megatron looks like he's taller than the entire room, he blinks. Then the bot steps forward and offers the oversized thing to his commander.

There's a bead of reverence in those optics, one that he's never caught before. Oil swirls around in an irresistible pattern over the surface. Lips touch the surface, finding it cool to his nodes. There's no doubt in his mind that Swindle has yet to pull his optics away. Megatron smacks his tongue against a cheek to taste, he looks down at Swindle when he takes a gulp. "I like this better."

Tension bleeds away, he feels like he's done something very good. Megatron sets the drink aside before leaning forward, a strange look upon his faceplate. "Uh, sir?"

"I think we are done taste testing. You can put the orders in." 

Swindle nods and begins to transmit the data, it's harder than usual. A little ping tells him he's overheating, over charged and almost just sent out a form while spilling oil on himself. Megatron's servo takes the cup from him, gently. Every digit feels like it takes an eternity to clench. The bigger bot raises a brow, Swindle can see his eye open just a little bit wider from it. "Thank you."

"Why don't you take a seat?" 

"I'm fine, fine." the tan bot smiles up at Megatron.

Normally Megatron wouldn't of bothered sticking around, Swindle usually spent every moment attempting to sell. The oddly contemplative, slightly overcharged transformer is new. "Come again? I can't hear you." it was an obvious hint.

It nearly sails over Swindle's head, at least until the roar of vents stands out. "My apologies." he shuts them off manually.

They start right back up. "I was never aware you found me attractive." 

Swindle gives the blunt truth "I'll frag anyone sir." he laughs nervously and in horror.

"I was about to compliment your taste." Megatron snickers. For a moment Swindle thinks he's flirting.

Then he's entirely sure that the larger 'con is reciprocating, because there's a hand on his shoulder dragging him closer. "You aren't attracted to your own frame?" the gray 'con pulls Swindle onto his lap. Swindle doesn't wait for Megatron to give him any more than that, pressing his face up into the bigger 'con's neck and licking. Megatron makes a soft sound and wraps his arm around Swindle's back, humming at the sensation of thighs gripping his waist.

"What self-loving Decepticon does? We were made to be slaves." polite, even as hideous words tumble from his lips. He fingers over kibble and touches sensitive wires on Swindle's back. Restrained, not giving entirely to the conversation. The leader's expecting Swindle to state prices and gnaw at that bitter little struggle of theirs.

The smaller bot dips his mouth against the dark neck before him. His lubricated intake drips over neck cables, making the heat itch against the embedded sensors. "I'm only here for my own processor's sake." he wonders if Megatron just has a fetish for old officer models, but doesn't say it out loud. 

"If you want me to stop-"

"No, no. I want you." he laughs, it's colorful like oily sheen. "Do you realize what you do to bots?"

Megatron knows, that's why he's so indulgent. "I don't." Servo dips against the long plate covering Swindle's crotch and it retracts, folds over the smaller 'con's hips as he grins up. "You should educate me." His teeth are perfect piano keys, shine identical across each. The faintest brush has the modesty plate between Swindle's legs flicking itself open, the plate had been warm. The bare interface equipment is scalding.

Intake meets intake, glossa touches teeth, touches tongue, and lubricant spills over lips. Megatron nips sharply and Swindle grinds down against the other bot's armored groin. One of his lips squeezes over the plating covering Megatron's housed cabling and smears lubricant over the surface in a slimy line. "Open up." begs the smaller Decepticon.

"You're overcharged."

"I am not." firm, a mild lie. He can feel the stray spazzes in his EM field. 

"Oh really?"

Swindle can't stop himself, "I'm not."

"You'll frag anyone." teases the gray mouth. He doesn't mind the attention but Swindle's a prickly little slagger. 

"Sir."

"Convince me this isn't a ploy." 

"It's not a ploy, Megatron." he slides onto the lap. "It's a free 'frag. Consider it a thank you."

Megatron tilts his head towards one shoulder, it's infuriatingly charming. "Are you a poorly made clone?" 

Quivering, the merchant finds himself irritated. It's not the insult, but the part of him that wants something very desperately and very mad that he can't have it. "I'm not."

"Then why do you want to interface with me?"

"You're attractive," his face glows with the pooling of energon in it. "do I need a better excuse?"

"I was expecting a contract negotiation from you. Seduction without reason" seems suspicious to anyone. The words linger in the air. "uncharacteristic. Coming from you."

"I promise" he grumbles "to not harm you."

"Or pursue any damage claims?"

His expression darkens, "Fine. I will not pursue any damages." Swindle shrinks, shivering hard. Something within Megatron turns and clicks.

The pelvic plating on Megatron has slid into his body "I won't harm you." the scattered wiring that seems to explode slowly from the bot's groin writhes over their thighs. "I don't think we're compatible."

Regret is tangible, but Swindle coaxes the forming cord into a too-large mass. "Huh. You were constructed as a …" 

"Yes." 

Suddenly the slave comment isn't so out of place. Swindle curses, but gives the massive tool an appreciative once-over. Megatron's built for 'cons of his own frame or larger. A service unit, probably made for making more of those large bombers. Someone with a deep valve and a long set of cords, "Do you have an adjustable valve?"

If Megatron was a few million younger he would have been hurt by the question. "I do." 

"I thought about getting one, but I've got too much hardware installed." he has always been adamant about keeping his frame intact, additions that won't remove, that can renovate. Swindle shakes his head and grinds against the node-studded cord under his valve. "I don't think I can fit you inside of me." he wiggles his fingers gently, "That doesn't mean we can't have any fun." 

Megatron leans back in his seat, the other bot's fingers are stroking the base of his interface units. Pelvic plating has grown hot under the pressure, lubricant dribbles from his parted lips. Swindle's valve sliding against the base of his cord, his pressurized unit against the pulsing red lights. It takes too much memory to drag his fingers into the wet, slick valve. Just one finger's enough to make Swindle overload. Venting, loud enough to complete the hazy lull. Slowly, the hammering data begins to overwhelm the smaller 'con. Another overload, Megatron grins at the recovery time. 

"I would of expected more stamina." Megatron sucks on his finger, analyzing the fluid vacantly.

Swindle sits up, shivering, his spike's pressed against Megatron's. Their collective EM field feels like a cloud of mercury. He licks his intake and turns to face Megatron. "I’m out of practice." tired, but he sounds pleased. Excess feels like it's lowered to a controllable amount, his coding suddenly seizes it back for a brutal moment of clarity. As recently as now he's violated several protocols that said it's an extremely bad idea to frag their leader. He leans forward and presses his fingers against Megatron's chassis seams. 

"I suppose we have time for improvement." though, he thought they'd be negotiating for longer. The servos manage to make him relax, tickling at tightly kept seams. Megatron vents pleasantly before wrapping his hand around Swindle's cord, squeezing once and then jerking him off fast.

Cursing, "You …." Swindle takes in a hard suck of air and spittle. "Fragger." his optics focus on the casually handsome smile in front of him. He swears up a storm when Megatron sticks a digit into his valve, calipers immediately clenching on the crooked thing. Megatron wraps his remaining fingers around Swindle's cord and begins to piston. Every stroke up his cord makes the finger in his valve wiggle out. 

It's a game now, Megatron drags out overload after overload until Swindle can't feel his struts. "Thirteen." he pulls his hand away "Did you hear me?"

Electronic wheezing and glitching vocals reply.

"Oh, I overdid it." a servo pats the heated mech delicately. Swindle's chest eases against Megatron's, the bigger 'con wraps his arm around the quivering mess. Venting has filled the air with the smell of coolant. Megaron thinks Swindle has slipped into recharge.

**Author's Note:**

> Swindle was overcharging for courage, I think he would of asked about fragging much later if it wasn't that.  
> I started to write this in April, but the final draft was done on May 2nd.


End file.
